Carter's Past
by Carole Cronan Seitz
Summary: Carter comes face to face with his past misdeeds...


Heather struggled against her captors as they dragged her into the clubhouse. Her fury grew as she was thrown into the center of the room on a faded scuffed floor. She stayed frozen on the floor as she took stock of her situation by looking around the room. There were a dozen chairs populating some old tables. A dirty mahogany bar was directly in front of her. Off to the side, she could see two pool tables. Scattered among the tables were a bunch of scary looking lowlifes. They drew closer to see what was happening. It was then she saw him. Without hesitation, the glance became a glare of pure unadulterated hatred. Her hate almost raged out of control but now was not the time. She had to get out of here alive. Suddenly Heather was yanked to her feet by her left arm. Obviously she had missed a question that required an answer. Her questioner was an older man with a grey and black beard and a balding head. "Okay, bitch, last chance. Why were you skulking around outside?" he bellowed. She looked at him for another second; then her eyes flicked over toward the reason, that tall arrogant bastard with those haunting blue eyes. Why not tell them? It was so much easier to tell them "I was following him," Heather said in a quiet, hate-filled voice, nodding at the bastard standing to his right. The degree of hatred seemed to shock her questioner. His grip loosened but not enough for her to make a run for it. "Why?" he asked dumbfounded. "I want to kill him and he knows why" were her venom soaked words. Her head exploded in pain as the son of a bitch in question backhanded her, knocking her again to the floor again.

Carter Shaw was astonished as he recognized Heather being tossed on the floor like a sack of potatoes. It had been years since he had seen her but she was as beautiful as ever. He felt her eyes burn into him. He had to get her out of here or something bad was going to happen, again. When she started to answer questions the way she did, he knew he had to take control of the situation. When Buzzy, the crew leader, moved back slightly, he took his chance and backhanded her. "Shut up, bitch. You must love living dangerously." She landed hard on the floor again. He saw the angry and hurt tears in her eyes. She put her hand to her cheek where he had clipped her.

When her head had stopped spinning, Heather made a mad scramble for the door. Carter stopped her before anyone else could by grabbing her long red hair. Carter felt her body tremble as he pulled her close, saying, "Where do you think you're going?" his full lips nuzzling her temple. Heather shivered in fear. Looking toward Buzzy, he smirked and said, "Let me have her, I know a guy who can sell her; we'll never see her again." Buzzy nodded but still had a quizzical look. Turning back to his captive smiling coldly, he said, "You need some taming but you should bring me a good finder's fee."

Heather felt like she was going to faint. She felt Carter's hard body press into hers as he spoke to her. His breathe tickling her face. She became more scared when his companion moved up behind her. Tears coursed down her cheek as Carter pushed her into his arms. "Put her in the car and keep her quiet," was all he said. No one moved to stop him. They just looked. Heather started to squirm as a muscular arm encircled her slim waist, dragging her toward the door.

From his position near the door, Dean saw the girl being dragged in. They almost had the deal set when the guards found this chick lurking outside. She was going to be trouble he just knew it. All he could do was follow Carter's lead. The night was dark and moonless as he pulled this wildcat out of the clubhouse. The girl twisted harder and harder as the two of them got closer to the old black sedan. If she struggled much harder, he might hurt her. Just then she started screaming. Dean put a hand over her mouth and whispered from behind her ear, "If you keep struggling and screaming, I will lock you in the trunk and gag you. That will not be comfortable. Do you understand?" he said, his voice as cold as ice. She nodded her head in agreement. "I'm taking my hand off your mouth, if you scream, trunk. Just answer the question, trunk or back seat?" Dean released her mouth for the answer. Heather whispered, "Back seat." "Good choice," he said as he pulled her to the car and opened the door. She didn't struggle as she got into the car but, after she was in, she scrambled for the door on the other side. Dean had to grab her leg to keep her in the car. "I told you not to do that," but instead of putting her in the trunk, he handcuffed her to the neck rest in the backseat.

Heather felt her frustration build as she struggled to get her hand out of the handcuffs. "Please let me go," she pleaded softly her eyes beseeching. "Can't do that" was all he said as he watched her tear up. "Why not, I haven't done anything to you." "Boss said, 'keep you in the car.' I do what I'm told. Stay healthy that way. Now be quiet; he's coming and he does not look particularly happy." He was glad Carter was coming. There was something about this woman that tore him up inside.

Heather looked helplessly as the backdoor opened. The monster that haunted her dreams got into the backseat beside her. The other man started the car. As the car pulled away from the curb into the darkness, the man beside her looked out the back. After a few blocks when he was sure that they were not being followed, he turned those ice cold blue eyes on her and demanded, "What did you think you were doing? You could have gotten us all killed." "It would have been worth it if I had taken you with me," she spat at him. Carter wasn't surprised by the bitter hatred that flowed from her. "I'm a cop and you're jeopardizing a big undercover operation. Do you get that," snarled Carter. "Yeah, right, do cops kidnap people now? I guess I missed the memo. I suppose you have no problem taking these off since I have committed no crime?" His voice softened as he said, "I'd like to do that but I can't. If I release you, you would run and be in great danger." Heather seethed in fury, "Right. Are you sure about that? I think you're the one in danger if you let me go. I don't think you care. You didn't when you watched me get raped six years ago. What's changed? You let it happen then. Why care now?" Heather broke down into a cloud of tears as she turned away from the best she could. Carter looked at Heather as she cried hopelessly. Carter and Dean's eyes met in the rear view mirror. Neither face gave a clue as to their thoughts.

Dean's face showed no emotion as he heard the reason for her anger. He felt sorry for her. She'd probably scratch his eyes out if he told her. She was very angry. After a while, they pulled into the garage behind the Asian market that that was the cover for their headquarters. He loathed getting involved in the scene in the backseat. So he got out of the car and leaned on the door next to the frightened girl, cutting off all chance of escape that way. Dean heard arguing through the glass of the window. He could not make out the words but he knew she wanted to go home. It got louder still when Carter opened his door. She was fighting like a wildcat as Carter dragged her out of the car. Carter had removed the cuffs from her delicate wrists.

Carter did not have time for histrionics. He grabbed Heather's shoulders and forcefully said, "You are staying here till this op is done. I don't have time for this shit. If you don't cooperate, I will handcuff you to the floor till this over." Carter's hands dropped from her arms as she kicked him in the balls. As he went down, she made a mad dash for the door. She only got a few steps when she was thrown down again. Panic seized her as she felt Dean's muscular body pressing into her. She struggled against him like a madwoman, kicking, screaming, trying to dislodge him. She heard Carter yell at the man on her, "Dean, take it easy. She's afraid not dangerous," while sliding the cuffs back to their owner. Dean was pulling her arms behind her. She cried out in pain. She felt the cuffs go on her again. He rolled off her and pulled her to her feet. In spite of his words, Heather flinched as Carter limped up to them. She fully expected to be hit for what she had done. He didn't do it. He simply took her other arm and pulled her up the steps dimly lit by a single light bulb. On the second floor, they unlocked a door. Once there, Carter made sure the door was locked after they entered. So, unless she could fly, she was trapped in a huge loft on the second floor.

As she entered the office area, she saw a white woman a little younger than herself and a tall muscular black man. This surprised her as she did not expect anyone else to be here at three in the morning. They looked up from a monitor and stared at her as she was pulled into the room. Carter strode over to them as Dean led her to the radiator in the corner to the right of the desks away from windows. He quickly detached one wrist and latched it to a small radiator pipe that went through the floor.

She felt trapped but Heather was too exhausted to care as she slumped against the wall. Her confused mind almost shut down as she realized that she was in serious trouble. No one knew or cared where she was. The second floor of the warehouse had a large window down the wall from her. In front of her, she could see an industrial kitchen. On her right, that monster and the others were clustered amid five desks. She watched the back of the man who had started all this. As she looked, she remembered, the hands touching her in her nightmares.

She didn't remember everything but she remembered him.

It had been a warm day in the spring six years ago. Heather was wearing a white tank top, mid length blue skirt and flip-flops. She was taking a shortcut that she always took. The alleyway took ten minutes off her walking time to the park. Heather was carrying her sketch pad. A light breeze slightly tousled her red hair. She had no clue that her day would go dark any second. The first instinct of danger was the footsteps behind her. She quickened her pace. The footsteps kept pace with her. She saw a brown panel van almost blocking the end of the alley. The footsteps were getting closer. As she neared the van, the feet started running. She tried to run but it was too late. The van doors opened and two more men grabbed her. All four shoved her into the bare interior of the van. Her first instinct was to fight and scream. This was cut short by a slender knife at her throat. The sight of the knife made her freeze in terror. She felt their smoldering eyes on her skin as if burning it. The tears started then. They soon pulled into a gated lot of clubhouse. The gate locked behind them so there was no chance of escape that way. She struggle as she was dragged into the center of a circle of the leather clad men.

Heather started out of her daze at the recollection. Leaning her head back against the wall, she considered what she knew. He claimed to be a cop. Was he really a cop? What kind of cop allows a gang rape to happen and does nothing about it? Was it another lie? Why he wasn't in prison with the rest of them? Heather's head hurt. She felt sore, thirsty and confused. It had seemed so clear earlier in the week after she first spotted him. She thought back to that moment when she saw him when her anger reappeared after all this time.

Earlier in the week, Heather was walking down the street window shopping. She had not been sure about leaving the loft that morning but it was a beautiful day. She felt something more akin to normal as she looked into the windows of the stores until a cloud euphemistically blocked out the sun for a second. It was then she saw him. A demon raised from hell. She felt the blood drain from her face as he walked past her down the street as bold as brass. How could he be here? He was supposed to be in prison. Anger overcame her fear. She decided in that instant. She hurried to get nearer to him but not too near. She could follow him. It was easy at first. He seemed oblivious to her presence. He entered an Asian market. However, when she went in a few minutes later, he was nowhere to be found. Confused, she went to a greasy spoon across the street and ordered coffee at a windows seat to watch for a while. Later that evening, he left and got into a late model sedan. Every day this week she had driven her car, parked it, and sat at the same table in the same greasy spoon. Whenever she saw him or his car move, she would follow. While she waited, she planned how she was going to kill him this monster.

Carter looked into Jaime's condemning eyes. "You can't just keep her cuffed to a radiator for a few days. She hasn't done anything wrong except kick you in the balls. I could make a great case for self defense on that one. You kidnapped her and now you're holding her against her will." Carter was getting close to losing his temper when he realized that Jaime was right. "She's in protective custody, not under arrest. We let her go; she's dead in a day. You want that to happen?" Jaime had to agree that Carter was right, but she said, "You have to talk to her. She is not going to handle this well unless you make her understand." Carter shut his eyes, dreading this. She was right. He had to explain this to Heather. There was no other way. Dean watched this interchange, silently considering what he knew of the connection between them. Carter had said nothing of it so Dean decided to keep quiet for the moment. Ty looked on with feigned disinterest. He could not figure out what was happening here. Carter sighed as he resigned himself to the fact that he had to talk to Heather. This was not going to be easy. "Get out of here. Go get some coffee," as he turned and slowly walked toward the corner his mind spinning.

Heather saw the other three leave as she saw him crossing the room. Fear threatened to overtake her as she thought "what now?" She knew he'd never let her out of here. He had made that clear in the car. When would this nightmare going to end?

Carter looked at her sitting on the floor, her back to the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest as if to protect herself. He didn't want to look at her. It hurt to see her so afraid and unhappy, but there was no other choice. This was for her own good. Kneeling beside her, he said, "Heather, my name is Lieutenant Carter Shaw. I know you don't like this but you must understand I have no choice here." She tried to sound calm as she said, "Understand? You want me to understand. I don't. How about proving that you're not a liar? That might be a start. You say you're a cop? Do you have a badge? Credentials? Can I see them?" She watched as he pulled out his badge from his pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes welled up with tears as she looked at the gold shield and touched its engraved surface. She felt a jab of pain in her chest. She didn't think the pain could get any worse since the attack, but she was wrong. He was a cop and he had done nothing. He let it happen. Her world dissolved into tears. The badge slipped from her fingers and clunked on the floor. She laid her head on her knees and wept. The room was silent for what seemed a long time except for wretched sobbing.

Carter stayed still. He thought about the shattered look she had when she looked at and touched his badge. It was hard watching such emotion. He picked it up from the floor as she sobbed in the corner. As the sobbing slowed down, "Can we talk now?" was all he could manage. She mutely nodded her head and looked at him with her red tinged green eyes. "The reason I can't let you go is that crew who caught you are into some really heavy arms dealing. If one just one of them sees you on the street or anywhere, they will put a bullet in your head. Do you understand? I can't let you die."

Heather listened as Carter made excuses. "So, you're concerned with my well being. When did that start? An hour ago, a year maybe? Why be concerned now? I don't think you care at all. You just don't want me to screw up your case." A weary Carter shook his head as he rose and said "If you're not going to be reasonable, then we have nothing to talk about." With that he strode off toward the desks. Heather sighed and tried to relax on the cold floor. Not an easy task but somehow she managed to lie down with her cuffed arm above her head. The others returned after a bit but no one approached her. She lay there quietly thinking about how was she going to get out of this? After a while, Heather dozed off.

In the morning, Carter left to see the Maynard. When he was gone, Jaime went into the kitchen after Dean. "This makes no sense. What's going on?" she said as she got close to him. It was hard to keep a safe distance from Dean since their fling several weeks earlier. "Stay out of it, Jaime. There's a good reason for how they both feel," as he looked in her eyes. "What's the reason, Dean?" said Jaime as he left the room.

Carter walked through the outer office as if he owned it. No one looked at him as he passed. No one ever did. How was he going to explain this? "What are you doing here? Problem?" asked Captain Maynard as Carter walked into his office. "Yeah a little problem, remember Heather Jones?" "Course I do, who could forget?" he said in a puzzled tone. "She stumbled into my gun running case. She was following me. Guards caught her." "How did she find you?" he gasped. "Dumb Luck. I got her out but she's more pissed than ever. She knows I'm a cop now." "Why did you tell her you were a cop," stammered an astonished captain. "Cause I had no choice. I got her out by getting them to give her to me. I couldn't let her think that I was selling her to a broker," said Carter in exasperation, "She's in my office. She wants to go home." "Can't let her," Maynard said shaking his head. "I know. This is going to be rough on her. I don't like doing this but what choice do I have," said Carter. "You don't have one, bad situation. Make her as comfortable as possible. "She doesn't know you testified for her, does she?" said the Captain Maynard as Carter was standing in the door to leave. "Would it matter if she did," he said as he turned and walked away.

While Dean and Ty stepped out to check on security, Jaime sat behind the computer glancing ever so often at the slim figure in the corner. She had her driver's license that Carter had slipped out of Heather's hip pocket. She went into the police department database and did a search. Along with a couple of tickets, a case file popped up. She clicked it open and went pale at the digital images of the crime scene and of her physical injuries. She couldn't believe that she made it through that kind of trauma. Jaime looked up and for a moment couldn't take her eyes off the vulnerable form in the corner. Next she did a search on the case number. Another folder popped up. She opened it and found it held the after action report of one Carter Shaw. She quickly scanned the file to avoid being caught by Carter or the others. She needed one last piece of information to finish the story. She called Scott on her cell phone. "Babe, I need a favor. Can you look up a case number for me?" "Sure, what's the number?" Jaime read it out to him. The information came back in a flash. "I don't suppose you could send me a copy could you?" Jaime said with a mischievous grin. "Honey, you know I can't; this is confidential." "Okay, then tell me. Did anyone get convicted?" "Yes, about six gang bangers were found guilty of rape, kidnapping, and one of them got attempted murder along with some distribution charges." "Who were the witnesses?" Jaime urgently whispered. "For the prosecution, victim didn't testify? How did they conviction without her? Oh, there was an undercover in the room when it happened. Man, that must have been tough. He testified. Only witness except for some doctors who verified injuries. Can you tell me what this is about?" Scott asked avidly. "I'd love to but I can't. I'll see you soon. Love you," as she quickly hung up.

Jaime leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. An undercover was in the room while this woman was beaten, raped and almost killed. The woman despises Carter. No question that Carter was the undercover. No wonder he had pulled her out of the middle of the gun runner case and isolated her. The only question that remained was did Heather know that Carter had testified for her. She wandered into the kitchen as she considered this point. Picking up two bottles of water, she wasn't sure if she should do anything. The situation was so volatile right now. Would it settle or aggravate the situation? As she pondered the question, she heard a scream from the office. Dropping the bottles, she drew her gun and scanned the room. No one was there but Heather who was having a very intense nightmare.

Holstering her weapon, she tried to wake the girl lying on the floor. This was a mistake as she started fighting her and screaming loudly. All Jaime could do was try to gently subdue her so she would not hurt herself or Jaime. She managed to somehow get behind and cradle her. Her struggles eased as she recognized her surroundings.

Before she knew it, Heather had dozed off on the floor. Too much had happened for her not to dreams about the assault. The nightmare started as that day six years ago had. It started when she was pinned in the van with the knife at her throat. Another wave of fear gripped her. Another flash and she was on the floor of the clubhouse. The dream slowed to a crawl now. She could feel the hands ripping her clothes off her. She could still feel hands holding arms down and the look of lust in the eyes of the bastards around her. Behind them, she saw a tall dark figure. His face slowly came into focus. How could someone so beautiful be so evil? She heard her own screaming as she jerked awake almost wrenching her arm from its socket. The phantoms from her dream seemed to still be there. She struggle against Jaime until she realized she was not one of her attackers. Jaime held her shivering body as Carter, Ty and Dean ran in to see about the commotion. Jaime told Carter to back off that Heather had only had a nightmare.

Carter walked to the window and looked down on the street. As he stood there, his mind went back to that terrible day almost six years ago. He had been infiltrating a drug gang in east LA. He had planted a bug in the club house the week before and was ready to make the bust when some wannabes brought the brothers a gift, a beautiful young girl with shoulder length red hair and green eyes. Her skin was so white it was almost translucent. Carter could see that she was terrified of the situation she was in. He watched her kick at anyone who came near her until one of her captors subdued her with his switchblade in her face. Her eyes went wide with terror. While one straddled her waist with the tip of the knife touching the lower part of her neck, the others tore off her white tee shirt and calf length floral skirt. With that done, they grabbed her arms and legs, watching the knife wielder cut off her bra and panties. He was acutely aware of all this even as the club leader was talking to him. "I know you want to party but can we finish this deal first," Carter said to him. "Sorry, it's sort of a tradition head Honcho goes first; I'll finish that and we can finish up the deal." Carter lean against the bar keeping features neutral. He couldn't stop looking into her eyes as she was raped right in front of him. Her eyes glazed over as she went into shock. He came back to reality, not wanting stay in the past.

Jaime went into the kitchen to retrieve the dropped water bottles. She sat on the floor near Heather and extended a bottle of water. Heather looked at her warily trying to size her up. Finally she accepted. The bottle was still sealed so she supposed it was safe. Jaime opened her bottle and said, "Heather, I know you don't know me and you have no reason to trust me but I understand what's you're going through. My name is Jaime." Heather gave her another look of distrust. Inside Heather was not so sure. Yes, she worked for a nightmarish monster, but she was a cop and a woman. She couldn't approve of violence against a woman. "What do you know about me?" She asked in a measured tone looking at her bottle of water. "I know you were kidnapped and assaulted six years ago. That's what the dream was about, wasn't it?" Jaime asked, "Yeah that's my nightmare. Do you have any idea why this is important now?" keeping the same even tone. "I think so. Do you want to tell me more," Jaime lowered her voice. "It's not easy he's your boss" she whispered as her eyes filled up. "I know. Just let me ask you one question," taking in her barely perceptible nod as a yes "Do you remember that he was there when the attack happened?" Heather seemed to shrink as a shadow fell across them, "Yes, I was there, go back to your desk, I'll deal with you later, Jaime."

"Are you feeling better," as he laid a sleeping bag roll next to her. "Little better. What do you want?" "Nothing." He turned to leave but was brought back by a question. "Why did you let them hurt me?" was the anguished question. "You don't want to know why. It won't make you feel any better about then or now." Again as he turned to leave, Heather said, "Could I at least use the bathroom, to clean up, please?" "Okay, but Jaime has to go in with you." "That's okay, I understand." It wasn't much but it was a start.

Heather struggled to control her revulsion at his touch as he helped her to her feet. He handed her off to Jaime with terse instructions to not let her out of her sight. As they entered the bathroom, Carter filled in Ty and Dean on the details of his connection to Heather. No use keeping it a secret now since Jaime would tell them anyway. Carter turned to Ty and Dean saying, "Let her lay down on the couch when she gets back but keep a close eye on her. We can't have her running off. Keep her as calm and as comfortable as possible."

The bathroom was moderately clean and functional. There was a sink, toilet, and a medicine cabinet. Heather relaxed a little since she felt that Jaime understood what was going on. She felt safer with her then the others. "I hope you don't get in trouble cause of what happened." Heather said cautiously. "Don't worry about that. Carter's tough but he's fair. He won't hurt you. He's just trying to protect you." Jaime said watching her face for a reaction, "I have to tell you something. It's important. You can't breathe a word of it to anyone not even Carter. Carter testified at the trial about your attack; he was the only witness to the attack that testified. You didn't know that, did you?" Jaime whispered hurriedly. "He testified? I don't understand this. How could he let it happen then testify to put them away? It makes no sense," said Heather as she shook her head. Jaime took Heather's hands in her own and said, "I don't know why he let it happen. Unless you convince him to tell you, you will never know. No one else knows. He's an enigma." Heather pulled her hands away and splashed water on her face. The cool water was refreshing. "Is there a towel I can use in here?" she asked as she removed her tank top. Jaime reached under the sink counter and pulled out a towel and wash cloth. Heather turned to take them from Jaime but Jaime didn't release them immediately. Jaime froze when she saw the scars on her chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare." Jaime said as she released the wash cloth. "It's okay. I forget it's there most of the time. I'm not used to people seeing it. Hope it didn't gross you out." She murmured as she used the washcloth to wash her torso turning away to hide it from both of them. Taking the towel, she dried off in the silence that followed. She pulled the tank over her head and took two aspirin she had found in the medicine cabinet. When she was done, they knew they had to leave their sanctuary. Heather gave Jaime a faint smile as she opened the door and they walked out into the office.

Heather tensed in spite of herself when she walked into the office area. Her eyes were glued on Carter behind his desk. Dean got up from leaning on that same desk and gently herded her forward to a lounge area where chairs, red couch and a coffee table stood. "Sit down, Jaime. You have to stay out of Heather's and my past. It will do no good for anybody." Carter quietly spoke once Heather was gone. Jaime leaned very close so that only Carter could hear, "Tell her why you did what you did. It will help her deal. Even if it's bad, it's better than not knowing." She walked away with that comment burning in his brain.

At that moment the phone rang, it was Buzzy. He wanted a meeting. "Ty, watch our guest. Jaime, you're backup. Let's hit the road." With that Dean, Carter, and Jaime left in two cars. Ty sat across from Heather, looking at her speculatively as she lounged on the couch. Ty looked her red hair, blue tank top and tapered blue jeans. This was one of loveliest women he had ever seen. "So is that all we're going to do stare at each other," Heather said with a small wry smile. "You have a better idea? I'm all ears," Ty said in an equally amused tone. "I need paper and a pencil," she said decisively. "Okay, but you have to stay with me. I'm not supposed to let you out of my sight," He said with a smile. "All right. Anything to break the monopoly. Your name is Ty, isn't it?" she inquired as they rose to go toward the desk. "Yes. Here's some printer paper. And here is a pencil," he said as he handed them to her. They turned and walked back the chair and couch. Heather started sketching on the top sheet. They talked superficially while she worked. The weather, if he was married, how he liked being a cop. As his face took shape on the page, she became lost in her art. Heather jumped as the door slammed open an hour later. Carter looked really mad. That made Heather really nervous.

Carter was not just mad; he was furious. Could this day get any worse? Now the Buzzy deal was going sideways, threatening to spin out of control. He wants to see how I manage situations like that girl he took out earlier. "Damn it. He wants to see how her training is coming along. I can't put her in that situation. Not again," he yelled as he kicked his chair into a wall. Heather watched stunned by the fury that streamed from him. She knew "the her" he referred to was her. She could see what Jaime had tried to tell her. He didn't want her hurt. Tears threatened as she knew that something had gone wrong with the gun running thing and it was all her fault. If she hadn't been following him like an amateur, this would not have happened. Ignoring Ty as she laid her almost finished sketch of him on the coffee table, she walked up to Carter and said, "What does he want? Tell me. You owe me that." He looked in her eyes and said, "You're not getting involved with this. I won't allow it." "You are so fond of saying that you had no choice six years ago. Well you don't have a choice now either. Let me guess; he wants to see me. Am I right?" she said, leaving him no chance to interrupt. "That doesn't matter, I will not put you in another compromising position," Carter said resolutely.

"Do you want this bust? If you do, then there's only one way to get it. Me," Heather said just as stubbornly. "You don't owe me anything," he said looking away. "Are you sure I owe you nothing. From what I hear I owe you a lot, but we can talk about that later." As Carter looked like he was going to nix the whole idea, Dean stepped forward and said, "What are you gonna do, Carter? If you drop this, she can't go home. She won't be safe. She can't live here. What are you gonna do?" Jaime jumped in as Dean finished, "You can't do this. She's an innocent. She's not a cop. Tell him she got away. It'll work." Ty walked over shaking his head as he said, "He won't buy that. It'll screw up the whole deal. He'll see it as weakness and send out his boys to find her and kill her before he completes the deal. I would like it to work, Jaime, but it just won't." Carter silenced the room with a glance. Heather was standing at the window looking down onto the street. Carter looked at her and said, "Do you want to do this?" "No. But do you have any way for me to go home and be safe. You're right; I'm not a cop. I wish to God there was some other way but I don't see one. Do you?" Heather said with a catch in her soft voice. Strolling over to the window beside her, "No, nothing that would work fast enough. I don't like this, but if you want to do it, I'll allow it," Carter said with barely suppressed anger looking down into the street. Heather looked up into his eyes, "Okay, so what do you want me to do?" Carter led her to the couch and quietly told tells her what she needs to know to get through this alive.

They were back in the car that she had left in earlier in the day. The sun was setting behind the sedan as they headed down the street to the club house where it had all started. Here she was putting her life in the hands of the man she wanted to kill this morning. How could things have changed so much? Her shirt was torn, showing more of her cleavage then she liked. The largest scar was clearly visible. Her hair was messy and she looked like she had been crying. Carter was filling her in on the final details. "Be sure to look at me if he asks you a question. I'll handle it. Pay attention to what I say. If you look up, you only look at me. If you could cringe when Dean or I touch you, it would be good. If you're not sure, don't try it." Heather went back into her mind to this morning. She remembered the disgust she felt at his touch and shivered. Carter sat up front worried; he wasn't sure this wasn't a trap. How could he put her in this position? Oh God, please make this work. She looked so young for her 29 years. They parked on the street outside the club house. "Keep your eyes down," Dean whispered as he pulled her from the car. The street was strangely empty for such an early hour. As they entered the club house, the room was as silent as a grave. A couple of guards closed in behind them after they entered. As they checked Dean and Carter for guns, Dean shoved her further forward. Any guns they found they took. This did not look good. They hardly looked at Heather.

Carter said nothing as he looked around the barroom as he strolled in front of Heather. Buzzy came around the bar looking at him, smirking. Carter's heart sank as he recognized one of the men near the bar. He had sent him up three years ago for a dope deal. They were blown sky high and he knew it. This was confirmed for everyone else when Buzzy said, "Welcome to your funeral, officers and thank you for bringing this choice morsel back for some fun before we slit her throat." Laughter rippled through the room.

Heather could taste the tension in the air when they entered the room. Everyone looked tense and ominous. Her fear grew when it looked like she was going be searched. She had shrunk back, but Dean had propelled her forward. Buzzy's words chilled her to the bone. No time for fear now. She stood in the center of the room, back and to the left of Carter. She shivered even though she was wearing an old oversized jacket of Carter's. She lifted her head defiantly to look at the jerk who had questioned her this morning. He stood in front of Carter, looking so arrogant. She decided how she was going to throw wrench into this rosy plan of theirs. "You think I lied to you this morning, don't you? Well surprise, I didn't," she smirked as she sauntered in front of Carter stopping right in front of the grizzled face of the head man. "Yeah didn't know he was cop then. Do now but not then. You probably think I'm cop too. What a laugh! What kind of cop would get caught by a bunch of idiot guards?" She could feel Carter directly behind her through the jacket as she reached up to caress Buzzy's cheek. "I knew what you wanted this morning. It's not the first time," She said in a quiet melodic voice. Everyone in the room was staring as she and gave him the sensuous touch and listened to her mellow voice. The next instant, she was flung aside from behind. She slid into the group near the pool tables, knocking two of the bastards down. After she stopped sliding, she moved quickly to the other end of the table away from the thugs. She saw some of them try to follow, but she grabbed a few pool balls and started throwing them at their heads.

Carter couldn't believe what Heather said as she calmly took control of the situation. He was so intent on listening to her that he almost forgot to take the Ruger .357 from the small of her back. Throwing her aside was a calculated risk, but he had to take it to get her out of the line of fire. When he had her out of the way, he shot Buzzy's between his eyes. Buzzy looked so startled by the sudden change in circumstances.

Jaime and Ty were outside the backdoor that emptied into an alley when they heard the shot. Ty kicked in the door and they rushed into the barroom. All hell was breaking loose. Dean was beating the crap out of two guys at the same time, disarming them both. Ty and Jaime joined Carter to shoot anyone who was armed. Even Heather was holding her own by throwing pool balls at a few guys who tried to get near her. One was unconscious bleeding from a cut in his forehead. The others soon submitted to being handcuffed. The uniformed officers arrived soon after and started to mop up.

Back at the office, Heather laid back on the sofa finishing up her sketch of Ty. "Good thing you put a gun in the small of my back," Heather murmured as Carter joined her. "Yeah, not a bad idea; glad you thought of it. You know we have to talk tonight." he carefully said. "You don't have to do it right now. As long as you promise to tell me soon," she gently murmured. "No, you need to know this now. I underestimated what would happen six years ago. I'm sorry. I never thought they would try to kill you," he said ruefully, "Six years ago I watched you get brutalized. As we continued the deal, I didn't hear you anymore. Then all of a sudden you were screaming in agony. I saw the knife arcing downward, and then the screaming stopped. The drugs arrived then. I gave the code word as quickly as I could. I'm sorry; it was too late." Carter's face was full of anguish as he remembered her bleeding from four deep knife wounds, one very close to her heart and a myriad of shallow cuts, . Sinking to his knees, he had checked for a pulse and tried to staunch the bleeding with his bare hands.

He shook his head sadly with tears in his eyes as he said, "I can't make that up to you." "Physical scars heal. Psychological ones take longer. You never asked me why I followed you," she said as she carefully kept her eyes from his. "You followed me because you hated me. Not surprising," as he shrugged.

"Not entirely. I followed you because you're the first person in six years that made feel something besides fear. My fear lessened but it never went away. I couldn't feel anything." Heather turned and looked at Carter. As he put his arms over her shoulder, for the first in a long time she didn't want to pull away from a man. She snuggled closer to him, feeling safer now then she had for a very long time.


End file.
